Page 25 of Blood Red Woes

“Is it because, I don’t know, he’s a man with his own body? A kind of cute one, too.”

That’s too much for him to bear, apparently. “Cute?” he echoes, aghast.

“Yeah, you know, handsome, in a different kind of way. It must really grind your gears that you’re stuck as a tattoo on mywrist while someone like Frederick gets to be his own man—” Am I taunting him? Maybe a little.

Is it too much? Nah.

“I vehemently refuse your notion that I am envious of Frederick because he is his own man. And I most certainly do not care that you find himhandsome in a different sort of way. I am simply trying to bring to your attention that, perhaps, we shouldn’t be so quick to trust him.” If a tattoo can sound flustered, that’s Rune right now. It’s kind of funny, really.

“Jealous.”

“I specifically told you moments ago I am not—”

“Jealous? Yeah, keep denying it, buddy. You’re making a good case for yourself.”

Rune must realize he won’t get anywhere with me right now, or maybe he knows he’s too flustered to have a logical conversation. Apparently the all-powerful ex-wizard still has feelings even though he’s been trapped inside a soul gem for who knows how long.

He does, however, break his silence to mutter, “I hate you.”

“Do you? Or do you only hate me because I just dropped a truth bomb on you?” I grin even though he can’t see it. I hike around a large boulder instead of crawling on top of it. The sun shines on my head, so hot I wonder if I should put my hood up.

Rune doesn’t answer me. He’s quiet, and that makes me say, “Rune? Are you still there? Oh, of course you are, you’re attached to me.” Maybe mocking the ex-wizard isn’t a good idea, but I don’t care. “Wait a second. Does this mean you’re pouting? Is the all-powerful Runepouting?”

I hear Rune sigh as the tattoo on my wrist lights up. “I am not pouting. I am simply ending this conversation.”

“Right. Because you’re pouting.”

This time he growls the words out, “Again, I hate you.”

“Hate, love, what’s the difference? Doesn’t matter. Either way, you’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you, so we might as well make the best of things. I can be your therapist! Let’s dive into whatreallymade you jealous over Frederick—”

It goes on like that for a while. Hours, probably. It isn’t like I have anything better to do, and talking to Rune is better than drowning in silence, helps remind me I’m not completely alone here, even though it might feel like it.

The hard truth is Rune is all I have. He’s probably the only reason I’m still alive. If I didn’t have him… let’s just say there isn’t a doubt in my mind I’d be dead by now. Rune saved me.

And if we come across any freaky-looking creatures on our journey? He’d save me again.

Chapter Eight

The first night I don’t stop before the sun goes down. I find an outcropping of rock near the river so I’m not exposed on all sides. I pace myself with the food Frederick packed for me, eating only enough to keep my belly from lurching in hunger. I do the same for breakfast when the sun rises, and then I’m back at it.

Rune is not very talkative the next day, I assume because he’s still pouting over the whole Frederick thing. My bad for bringing it up over and over and reminding him just how stupid he’s being for acting so jealous.

Not really though, because it’s kind of fun poking at Rune. He sounds so snobbish and entitled, like he automatically believes he’s better than everyone else. It’s only fair to take him down a peg or two and remind him that he’s just a tattoo on my wrist.

The second day I stop before the sun goes down to practice finding food in the river. I also wash my clothes—and by that I mean I huddle naked under my cloak and rub my clothes against each other in the water. It’s about all I can do, but it’s better than nothing.

Finding clams and crayfish is easier than catching fish. I don’t eat them, though. I put them back where I find them, not yet starving enough to want to be brave and try them.

The third day I get an idea as I’m practicing summoning yellow bolts of sizzling magic.

“Rune,” I say as I walk along the riverside, “you threw up that shield when that crazy dog attacked me.” My focus had waned from the magic sprouting forth from my hands, moving to the river beside me.

The current is harder, faster here than it was before, and yet I don’t see many large rocks in it breaking up the surface.

“I did,” he says. “Why? Reminiscing already?”

I roll my eyes. “No. I’m just wondering if we can try something. Do you think I could summon a shield thing like it?”

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